


Shipwrecked Heart

by Wallyallens



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, basically what should have happened in boo, percy and annabeth dealing with going to literally hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallyallens/pseuds/Wallyallens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post HoH. Percy and Annabeth are out of Tartarus but far from okay. What happened down there is affecting both of them and everyone on board the ship. They wear smiles and act like everything is fine, but three incidents tell the crew of the Argo that Percy Jackson is not okay at all: a sword, a fight, and a curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shipwrecked Heart

**Author's Note:**

> so I wrote this a year ago after HoH came out, expecting something similar to happen in BoO, but as percy and annabeth coping with everything was swept under the carpet, I decided to upload it. Slightly triggering for panic attacks/anxiety. hope you like!

_Annabeth_

At first, no one noticed the difference. She and Percy were back in a place where the sunlight could touch their skin, and the others thought they were fine. Tired, hungry and scared out of their wits maybe, but the real damage didn’t start to show just yet. As far as everyone was concerned, Percy and Annabeth were back from Tartarus; safe and sound.

She wished she could believe that.

As far as she could say for herself, the daughter of Athena was coping. Some nights she laughed, and that place seemed like a distant memory . . . some nights she woke up screaming from another new nightmare. It was okay though, because Percy was always there, ready to hold her as she curled up to cry on his shoulder. Since the Coach had left, there had been less of a reign on the ship; they taken to sleeping on the top deck, side by side like they did in Tartarus, the feel of each other always close enough to reach for enough to help them sleep. Nobody spoke of it; it was accepted. The pair didn’t wake the others with their nightmares this way.

In another sense, they chose to sleep outside so they could constantly see the sky. There was a time Annabeth thought she’d never see it again. On the nights that seemed endless, she would sometimes just look up, watching the shades change and blend together – it was beautiful. As long as the scarring red burn of hell doesn’t look back, she swore she would never complain about the weather again, not for rain or storms or falling cats and dogs.

It reminded them both that they were free of that place. The crew must have noticed that much, at least, as they moved the dining table up to the deck a few nights ago. Being inside just didn’t sit with either of the returned heroes anymore, like claustrophobia – being inside felt like being trapped. Even in the home they’d made aboard the ship.

Percy looked at the sky more than Annabeth, though. It started to worry her after a while, on the third or fourth night when she woke up to find him already awake, just staring down the stars as if in competition to see who would falter first. He never blinked.

She wondered how often he thought of Bob and Damasen, and how they longed for that sight. That exchange seemed to have affected him more than she first thought. It had been her, a crying mess, who’d felt the bond with the creatures from the pit, but she was starting to wonder just how much their friendship had effected Percy. She had known he’d feel guilty, but didn’t predict this.

“Percy?” she whispered, looking up from where her head rested on his collar bone.

He looked right down at her, edges of his eyes dark but face clear, “mmm?”

“What are you thinking?” Annabeth hated having to ask it, but apart from when he comforted her, he seemed so quiet these days. That was something he should never be.

“Nothing,” he answered, a nervous and weak smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Er, that you’re beautiful?”

She laughed, breath shaking, and when she looked back up, his smile seemed more genuine. “Nice try, but I think you’re losing your game, Jackson.”

“Never.”

“Definitely, at this rate, you’ll lose the whole ‘charming trouble maker’ thing you got going for you.”

He snorted, “Me? _Not_ get into trouble? When is that ever gonna happen?”

Simply, the sleepy girl pulled his arm further around her shoulders, placing her head against his, “When we get home, it will be different. I Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“You better,” she closed my eyes, the rhythmic rising of his chest lulling her to sleep, “Get some sleep, Jackson.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Within the hour, they were both sleeping soundly under a cloudless sky, breathing to the same beat, right in time. They were the only ones who knew what they’d been through. The only ones who would possibly understand each other. They had to hold on to that, no matter what.

 

* * *

 

_Jason_

Jason first noticed something was wrong about a week after the doors of death. Percy and Annabeth still hadn’t said a word of what had happened in Tartarus, and none of the crew had the heart to ask. The looks in their eyes were enough to know that it was nothing good.

But at the same time, the pair seemed to be surviving it; moving on in their own ways. Annabeth and Percy acted like they always did: to protect the crew; leading without needing to be asked; stronger than ever before. It was like nothing had changed some days. Like they’d just stepped out for a moment and now were back.

On other days it hung over the ship like a storm cloud. On those days, when a nightmare had kept them up all night or they’d accidentally panicked and shot a bird out of the sky for flying too close to the ship, their mood effected the whole crew - another brick weighing down the bones of the Argo II. They sailed slower, and the day felt like a losing fight.

Percy and Annabeth really were the heart of the ship.

The demigod’s were training on the deck, just simple sword stuff – him, Frank and Percy (minus Leo, who had declined on the basis that he ‘would never be good at sword fighting anyway’ and muttering several things about calibrators for the left engine and needing more construction equipment now Percy was back to speed them along). It was true; Percy had been using his abilities to speed the Argo on its course, but less than before. He was still weak from his harder journey and Annabeth insisted he only aid them a few hours a day until he was back to one hundred percent. Jason was starting to doubt that would ever happen.

Percy Jackson had the darting eyes of a war survivor, the tiredness of a soul he knew only too well. He saw it in the faces of the older demigods in new Rome, the ones who had seen many horrors in their lifetimes and knew things unspeakable. But they were old, and Percy was too young to be this way. He had it even worse than they did, in fact – the closest look he’d seen to the young demigod’s condition was the nymphs they’d faced in Rome what felt like a million years ago. They’d had the same haggard look of desperation about them, an ancient feeling buoyed by fury, as if they’d been broken by the world.

At the same time, the son of a sea god was stronger than before the fall. It wasn’t obvious at first, hidden between the layers of fear and relief respectively, but it was definitely there. A shift in the currents.

Before, Percy would look unsure before commanding the ocean, questioning his ability to control such a force. Now he never even paused. He just acted, with a new grace about it – there was no doubt there. The teen would lift a finger, and the whole world would respond. The waves he created were larger, the surge of the sea smoother but stronger, the whole ocean around them seemed to crackle with electricity when he focused on it. No man or god could question his power now. It was awe-inspiring, and terrifying.

Whereas before, Jason would have made a good argument over the ‘who would win in a fight?’ conversation, he knew he would lose now. The thought of having to fight Percy, who had survived the deadliest of all places, scared him more than he’d ever admit to a living soul. He wouldn’t even stand a chance - and he never wanted that to have to be a reality.

They were only practising right then, however, so he wasn’t too concerned. He, Frank and Percy had been alternating between pairs for a few hours, practising parrying their blades and footwork. Jason faced Percy as a friend, sword extended out in front of him, feeling his legs burn with the exercise as they moved. It was a good fight.

A sword clattered to the deck. The sunlight was warm on their backs, so Jason had to hold a hand against its rays to see what had happened. The sword was Percy’s – _Anaklusmos_. The sword he’d fought with for years now, fitting like an old glove in his hand. For a moment, all three of them just stared at it on the ground in varying degrees of shock. Frank and Jason were just surprised that Percy even _nearly_ lost a fight – and even more so at the fact he’d dropped his sword in the first place. They’d both seen him fight; it never happened. He was too good.

Jason looked quickly to his friend, expecting anger or surprise on Percy’s face. What met his sight scared him even more – Percy had gone rigid, eyes glazed over in memory, staring at the fallen sword but seeing nothing. He stood frozen, still for almost a full minute before he moved, dropping to his knees to retrieve the sword. Jason could only imagine what memory would be powerful enough to create such fear. Not to get him wrong – Jason had seen Percy scared, he was human after all.

But fear like _this_? He hadn’t thought it was possible in a person, let alone a friend.

“It’s okay; we’ll just take a break. You were on watch last night, you’re just tired. We’ll stop for a while, yeah?” Jason found himself talking without meaning to or even creating the words in his head. His voice was calmer than he imagined it being, low and reassuring. Both he and Frank knew better than to reach out to Percy, whose senses were sharper; as he would probably take an arm or at least a few of their fingers off. “It’s fine, bro.”

Jason’s friend didn’t even appear to hear the words. As if in a trance, Percy reached for the sword still lying on the deck, but his hands were fumbling too much to get a grip on the handle. Producing the pen’s cap from a pocket, he tried in vain to put away the weapon, but its accusing blade remained glinting in the daylight. After a while, the demigod shifted on his heels to try again, and Jason could finally see the problem; the reason the pen couldn’t be capped.

Percy’s hands: they were shaking. Not in a nervous way, either, more like a person having a panic attack. Only a moment of true fear could induce such an effect, the trembling of the slender fingers as they fumbled with the cap, unable to get a grip enough to wield it. Percy wanted the sword gone, but in his haste, he lost the grace needed to act in a powerful way, or to even perform a simple task.

He was no longer scary – he was their friend, he was suffering and needed their help. His breathing had gone shallow, all senses focused solely on the task before him, blind to anything and everything else. If dropping his sword could have such an impact, Jason wondered, how would he cope in battle from now on? They needed him, that was a given – a warrior he was in New York, and always will be. But what happens to a warrior when they can no longer fight? The same thing that happens when a war ends, the blonde demigod speculated: they lose their purpose, and fade.

How was he supposed to help?

“Percy,” he tried again, cautiously and gently, “It’s okay.”

Finally seeming to break through, the words woke his friend. Percy moved like the lightning Jason could bring down, fluidly sweeping the sword up and throwing it over the side of the boat before getting to his feet. He knew his sword would re-appear back in his pocket sooner or later.

“No,” was all Percy said, still shaking more profusely than ever now on his feet. The detachment in his eyes; the lost look there was more chilling to Jason than any display of power. Percy was not the same as he was before. “No, it isn’t.”

Jason could only watch as his friend walked off, disappearing below the deck without a second glance. What happened that day should never have happened. And the shaking, the panic visible his movement was something Jason would never have expected to see. No, he had been wrong. All was not well with Percy, at least. Making a resolution to ask Piper if Annabeth was the same later, he turned to Frank, who looked as shocked as he felt. Neither knew what to think, apart from one dark thought – if someone as strong as Percy could succumb to such fear, what chance did the rest of them stand?

It was a decidedly unhappy thought.

 

* * *

 

_Piper_

Her task had been simple: watch out for Annabeth – which was easy, since her and Hazel had been trying to get their friend to open up for days. The other girl wasn’t as distant as her boyfriend, but looked more tired than she could ever tell them in words. There was sadness in Annabeth’s eyes which Piper noticed, a deeply rooted despair that seemed to wear her down as the days passed.

Annabeth, who was always so full of fire and _drive_ , was losing her ability to focus. Like the world was too much for her. Piper knew the pair had lost something, or someone, in Tartarus, but only a vague ‘Bob’ had ever been mentioned. She wondered who Bob was, and why his death was hitting her friends so hard.

“Annabeth,” she started tentatively, as the three girls sat in the stables, on the glass trapdoor looking out to the sea below. It was evening, after dinner (where Percy had been noticeably absent), and the boys had taken the ships wheel so they could catch up. “Are you okay? Like really. We know you’ve had problems sleeping.” Piper paused, thinking of the first few nights when Percy and Annabeth had got back.

The blonde girl had woken them all in the middle of a night with a scream, followed by thuds and bangs as she fled blindly through the corridors, calling for Percy. He’d met her there, catching her as they collapsed, her sobbing, in the middle of the corridor. They stayed there until the morning. The crew, roused by this, had taken in the sight of her shuddering form – Annabeth, their rock – and silently left. After a few nights like this, the pair had started sleeping together on the deck. No one mentioned it; they were not woken anymore by more nightmares, although from the darkening shadows below her eyes, they knew Annabeth still had them.

The brown-haired girl went on, “But apart from that, are you okay?”

“’Course I am,” Annabeth replied, not meeting their eyes, “I’m alive and Percy’s alive, which is more than I could’ve hoped for.”

“That’s great.” Hazel put in, leaning forwards so the older girl had no choice but to look her in the eyes, “But its okay to be hurting. You’ve been through more than _any_ of us.”

Annabeth nodded, “I’m . . . I don’t know. We lost some good people down there, but it’s more than that – we, _I_ , let them down. We should have been enemies, but they gave their lives so we could get out.”

“Then they weren’t your enemies,” Piper announced confidently, “It doesn’t matter what they _should_ have been - only what they were.”

“But is a demigod allowed to grieve for a giant? Or a titan?”

“They’re allowed to grieve for a friend.”

Annabeth, who had been looking very conflicted, looked up gratefully at Piper’s words and tried a smile. She still looked tired, but the sadness seemed more nostalgic now.

“Thank you,” she said, then took hers and Hazel’s hands, “Both of you. We’d never have got out if you hadn’t have come for us.”

“Hey, we would never make it without you,” Piper laughed, and the three girls sat comfortably for a while. Hazel giving Piper looks that said _ask her_ every few seconds, eventually Piper sighed and hesitantly asked the question that had been on all their minds. “Annabeth . . . has Percy ever had panic attacks before?”

“Before?” Annabeth’s cloudy grey eyes hazed over in confused, squinted into slits as she turned on her friend, “What do you mean, ‘before’?”

Backtracking nervously, Piper held her hands up peacefully, putting all her power into her words. “It’s okay, Annabeth, everything’s fine.” Her charmspeak didn’t work.

“What happened?” Annabeth demanded, hair bouncing on her shoulders.

“The boys, they were sword fighting on the deck and um, Percy – he dropped his sword.”

“Oh gods, no.”

“Jason said he started shaking, like he was having a panic attack, and breathing funny. They tried to snap him out of it, and then he threw away his sword and disappeared somewhere,” Piper finished explaining. She looked up at her friend, fearing the worst.

Her fears were confirmed, as Annabeth looked thunderstruck, a horror etched upon her face. She snapped quickly out of it. “Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” Hazel murmured. Although she tried to make her voice as soothing as possible, trying to re-take the hand Annabeth had pulled away when they had revealed the news, there was no hope to be found in the words. The problems of their two returned friends was starting to effect the entire crew.

Before they even had time to process it, Annabeth was on her feet and rushing out of the room, head spinning around as she glanced around the corridors. “Percy!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, running through the cabins, “PERCY!”

Piper could only try to keep up as her friend tore about the place in a panic. She didn’t know what to do to calm Annabeth’s nerves, or even if that was the right thing to do. So, she joined in.

“Jackson!” she shouted, and before long the three of them had covered the entire ship, top to bottom, but still no one answered. Eventually, they burst out onto the top deck, where the boys flinched at their sudden arrival.

“Where’s Percy?!” Annabeth yelled, storming up to Jason, who backed nervously away. Angry Annabeth could have scared the best of soldiers.

“I – I, er, don’t know” Jason admitted sheepishly, not meeting her eyes.

“He freaked and you didn’t even bother to tell me? Or look for him?!”

“We tried to follow him but I’ve never seen him like that!” Jason defended himself, “I don’t think he’s gonna be found unless he wants to be.”

Everything about Annabeth drooped: her shoulder sagged; her vision lost its blaze, her head hung. She looked defeated. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “You’re right.”

Apparently Leo wasn’t the only one who knew the hiding places of the ship.

“Hey,” Jason spoke more confidently now, a comforting tone to his voice as he reached out to place a hand on the girls shoulder. Piper was proud of him. “We’re doing our best here, but what happened to you guys? – That doesn’t just go away. But we’re going to look after you guys; we’re not losing you again. Or Percy. But we need to know about things like this so we can help – we need to know what happened.”

Just as Annabeth nodded and started to open her mouth, they were all distracted by the thud on the deck. Piper turned around to find Percy standing on the deck, coming from the sea like a ghost. He looked damp, which was strange, as she knew he usually stayed dry, even under water. He stumbled, and she reacted instinctively, catching him by the shoulder to hold him upright. Pipers hand came away sticky – it was not water damp on his skin, it was sweat. And he was much paler than usual. Percy nodded once at her, eyes grateful, before Annabeth charged him, throwing her arms around his neck. He wrapped one carefully around her, and dropped his head into her shoulder.

It was touching; Piper exchanged a gentle look with Jason.

“Where have you been?” Jason asked, straightening his back.

“For a walk,” was the short reply.

“At the bottom of the ocean?” Jason asked incredulously, getting no answer. After a silence, he continued, “Even for a son of Poseidon, that’s tempting fate.”

Percy said nothing. Piper saw a look of absolute power in his eyes that had been lingering there; it was unsettling.

“The last time I dropped my sword,” Percy eventually started, releasing Annabeth to address them all, “Was downstairs, when . . . when Tartarus appeared.”

“What?” asked Frank confusedly, “That makes no-”

“-Tartarus the person, not the place,” Annabeth cut in gently. The horror on Percy’s face earlier reflected in her eyes.

“That _place_ is his body” Percy continued, “But he, uh, reformed when we tried to take back the doors. He wanted us dead.” They both shuddered, Percy’s hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder tightening for a moment. Even Annabeth closed her eyes, haunted. He finally finished, like an admission of great guilt, “I dropped my sword.”

Those words killed the air. He hung his head as he spoke, almost like he was _ashamed_.

“Percy,” Piper breathed, shocked that he could even think to feel shame over that, “No mortal has ever seen Tartarus – you were scared. We all would have been. That is _nothing_ to be ashamed of.”

“She’s right,” Frank added, “If it were me, I would’ve fainted.”

That brought a laugh from the group, and even a weak one from the subject of their attentions. The older demigod glanced up at their words, eyes flickering with that looked like hope, but couldn’t find the words to say.

“Seriously, if any of us were in the same position, we would have done a lot worse. You stared the monster from the pit in the face, and that isn’t nothing. That’s brave, man,” Jason’s voice cut through the air, producing clouds of smoke. He met Percy’s gaze and held it, all honestly and admiration swimming there.

“Thank you,” Percy said quietly, not quite knowing how to express his gratitude towards his crew. He’d never been too good with words, and now they failed him. But he met their eyes - they understood. That’s what family did, after all.

“Come on,” Jason said, “You missed dinner. I’m sure there’s some scraps left.”

The two boys made their way below deck, Jason clapping his friend’s back once. Piper remained on the deck; she looked at Annabeth, trying to distinguish the other girl’s reaction. “Tartarus,” she started, walking to the blonde’s shoulder, “You never said.”

“How do you tell something like that?” Annabeth sighed, eyes turning to the stars.

“I don’t know. Guess we’ll have to figure it out,” Piper put an arm around her friend, cold to the touch, even her power of words unable to produce something more comforting to say. It didn’t matter, though, her being there was enough.

 

* * *

 

_Frank_

The next incident was a week after that, several monster attacks, and a bad run in with a Kraken later. Things never slowed down on board the ship long enough for them to think much. It was a blessing in a sleep-deprived disguise.

The crew were constantly in motion, which was enough to blur the little details these days, and no one spared a thought as to Percy’s panic attack. It had happened; it was over. All they could do now was try to keep their heads above water. Everyone acted normal, too busy cutting their way through everything Gaia had to throw at them to give much thought to anything else. Percy fought the Kraken with them, and showed no trouble in fighting this time, so nobody worried. He acted okay.

If only things were that simple.

It happened at dinnertime, when they had all assembled for a stew made by Hazel, who had taken the Coach’s job as chef. She was surprisingly good at it: making all old-fashioned, simple food which kept them going. He was proud of her. Everyone else there also told her how great it was: Jason and Piper sat close on one side of the table, Percy and Annabeth, shoulders touching, on the other. Frank sat at the head of the table as Hazel tried heaving the huge stew pot back into the kitchen. He’d offer to help, but she’d only lift and eyebrow and ask if she really needed it. Truth was, she didn’t need or want anyone’s help; Hazel could handle herself, and he loved her for it. They tended to just leave the dishes to Percy, who was a surprisingly good turbo-washer. Naturally.

In fact, he was so busy smiling up at Hazel, admiring the way her hair was flying madly in corkscrews as she moved and her wide smile as people complimented the food that he almost missed it. He saw the action in pieces.

One: a blur entering the room at 50 miles per hour, a bob of brown hair telling him _Leo_ before –

Two: faster than he imagined possible, another blur from the table, _Percy_ , hitting the first blur; elbow to face -

Three: Leo being thrown into the wall with a shout, held there by his collar.

At this point, everything slowed down, and Frank could see it all clearly. Leo, back against the wooden wall, bleeding from the nose with an expression of completely shock on his face, slowing turning to anger; was held aloft by Percy, whose hard eyes softened, face dissolving to shock as he saw what he had done.

“I-” the sea child tried to speak but the words died in his throat, stammering as his hands, still pinning Leo, started to shake. “I’m sorry.”

Those green eyes, sharp as a flint seconds before, were now wide with shock, glassy and hurting. He looked so innocent, utterly dismayed at injuring a friend. Everyone else sat frozen in their seats at the table, not daring to move. Percy dropped Leo, who fell to his feet coughing, grasping at his throat. Moving quickly away from his attacker, the curly hair mechanic looked over his shoulder accusingly, “What the hell, man?”

Percy watched him go, moving slightly like he wanted to help but thinking better of it, holding his hands out. Leo’s blood traced one of his fingers where he’d held him, and Percy couldn’t stop staring at them, before moving his hands closer to his chest. He looked horrified.

“I- I didn’t mean to,” he started before running out of words, the looks Piper shot at him not helping, nor was Annabeth’s frightened features, “I didn’t know it was you, I saw something and . . . panicked.” He gulped, shaking more now. Another panic attack. “I’m so – so sorry.”

Garbled excuses made, Percy shot from the room. The first person to move was Piper, who went over to Leo to check if he was alright. When she reached for his face to see his nose, he flinched away, wincing.

“Leave it,” Leo barked, backing away until his back leant against the wall again. Piper mustered a complaint, but he just kept shaking his head.

“What was that?” Frank directed his question at Annabeth, who woke from a trance and started up at him. She tried a vague smile, but there was no humour there.

“Had to learn to act fast,” was all the explanation she offered, before following her boyfriend’s footsteps out of the mess hall to find him.

Frank and the others were left confused; all wondering what could have brought about such a drastic need for impulsive actions. The lights, usually warm and comforting, seemed artificial; they didn’t know when or even _if_ Percy would get better, but they needed him too. The way he was now . . . Frank thought of when he’d first met the demigod, and how they’d become firm friends on their Alaskan ‘adventure’. He thought he knew the guy, but this? Frank would never have pinned the guy to be capable of such violence – all that was left of the Percy he knew was a faint ghost. A whispered memory of a smirk or sarcastic comment. There sometimes, but fading with every action like this one.

And until they got their friend back, the crew of the Argo II felt hopeless.

 

* * *

 

_Annabeth_

She found him on the top deck, crouched against the ship’s hull with his face in his hands. His form was shuddering, not crying but struggling to breathe, lungs wracking for the air that was in abundance around his head but still unable to make it fill his chest. It was terrifying. Seeing Percy, _her Percy_ , on the floor like this in such a state - it chilled her to the bone. Looking like the 12 year old she’d met all those years ago, the pedestal she’d put Percy on without realizing it crumbled around her. She’d always thought of him as the strong one; the one who could shelter them all from everything – now it was her turn.

“Percy,” she knelt on the deck next to him, angled so she could look him in the face, and spoke soothingly. He didn’t even seem to hear: just kept clamping his hands over his eyes and – _oh gods_ , he was shaking so much, whole body shuddering. His chest moved shallowly, like he was choking, rising and falling so furiously it was a wonder he didn’t burst in the attempt to breathe normally again. “Percy, look at me – it’s going to be alright.”

“C-can’t – breathe,” he managed to choke out, head whipping up to meet her eyes, his own wide and terrified.

“Yes you can,” Annabeth told him like a scolding mother, taking one of his hands and enveloping it inside both of her own. He kept one hand in his hair, wound into a fist. Although his whole body moved with the effort of panting, another cold sweat breaking out on his face, his gaze never left hers. _Good_ , she thought, _keep him focused_. “You’re having a panic attack; we need to stop it. I want to you try and take deep breaths with me, okay?”

He nodded shakily, so she smiled forcibly. Still clutching his hand, Annabeth starting taking deep, slow breaths, calming herself as much as him. Percy tried to imitate her, but after a few seconds faltered, dropping his head as his breathing became shallow again.

“I can’t,” he gasped.

“Yes you can. _You will_. You’re staying with me, remember? Now _try again_ , Seaweed Brain.”

Her tone was more forceful than she anticipated, and his hand became tight in hers squeezing back. A new focus about him, they tried the slow breathing again, and this time, it worked. As his breathing evened out, Percy stopped shaking little by little, until the only quake came from new sobs. Now, with the attack over, Annabeth took him into her arms, leaning against his shoulders as his arms wrapped around her waist, his head against her stomach.

“Shhhh,” she comforted, “its okay now. We’re okay.”

“I hurt Leo,” the uncertain reply from beneath her said, so she tightened her grip briefly, releasing him. Annabeth took Percy’s face in her hands, the green eyes she’d fallen for still wide, and spoke directly into his face.

“You’re the best man – hell, the best person I know. You didn’t mean to hurt Leo, I know it; he knows it.” Percy looked uncertain, sweat still glazing his features, so she leaned forward on her heels and pressed her lips to his forehead. Closing her eyes for a second, she opened them and focused on a star, head atop of his, “You’ll do the right thing. I know you will.”

Annabeth had no idea how long they stayed that way, shivering on the deck, but it was the moment she really realized things weren’t okay. They both needed putting back together, but for now, all she could do was let him know she was there.

 

* * *

 

_Leo_

His favourite place on board the Argo II was the engine room: the heart of the ship. So it was no surprise to anyone when Leo disappeared into its depths not long after the conflict with Percy, nose wiped clean from blood but still shaken. He hoped to find peace in the whirring of gears and warm glow of his paradise, but such a relief was hard to find on nights like these.

For one thing, Leo Valdez never liked admitting he was scared.

He’d been morally opposed to it for most of his life, from not wanting to face the fear in his gut after his mom died, of himself and his abilities; then after that, in the homes he briefly lived at, fear was the first sign of weakness he couldn’t show. In places like that, if kids knew you were scared they would tear you apart – so fear was a luxury Leo could never afford. Humour – now that was his thing. Leo: always funny, always joking; never scared. Yeah, he liked that.

Except it wasn’t true. Because right then he was bloody terrified.

His hands shook, almost causing him to drop the wrench he was using, but he pulled himself together and carried on tinkering with the new calibrator he’d made for the engine. It had started overheating the room, making even his flame-proof self uncomfortable, and he hoped the new gadget would regulate the heat. Attaching it to the main body of the engine, a buzzing hub of colourful wires and dangerous looking pointy parts, Leo tried to stop his pounding heart.

He was scared of Percy back there, genuinely. The look on the older boy’s face when he’d shoved him was so cold, so detached - the closest thing Leo could place it to was the wolf pack they’d tangled with when rescuing Hera last December. The wolves stare had the same feral rage in it; in that moment, Percy had been more monster than man. Leo thought he was going to kill him. A month ago, that was something he would never have imagined possible.

But there was an anger bubbling in his chest too. How dare Percy attack him? They were supposed to be friends yet he and Annabeth kept lying, pretending everything was okay until it wasn’t. And that was causing them _all_ problems. What if the same happened when they needed them most? What if Percy freaked and accidentally killed one of them?

The thoughts were too numerous to consider properly, and Leo was in no mood to get lost in ‘what ifs’. The simple fact was that something had to be done. The crew had been slowly drowning, but it was time to kick back up to the surface: they could pretend everything was fine all they liked, but that didn’t make it true.

The first step to solving the problem was admitting you had one (or was that just AA meetings like on tv? He wasn’t sure). Long story short: Percy had to admit there was something wrong. Only then could they start facing it; making it better for them all. Leo couldn’t let them all hide from it anymore – he was the ‘running away from your problems’ expert, so he knew it only led to dead ends.

_Come on,_ said a voice in his head, _if you’d have been down there, you’d have fallen and started crying for your mom in five minutes, are you really going to begrudge him for being a little jumpy?_

His anger subsided. It was true: he couldn’t even begin to imagine what his friend was going through. Being angry wasn’t going to help anyone and besides, he’d tried being mad at Percy when he’d first gotten back, but his frostiness over Calypso hadn’t lasted long – he’d taken one look at his tired friends and all his coldness had melted. Leo had started working on ways to make things easier for them ever since – including his current attempt to soundproof their cabins so they could start sleeping inside again. Try as he might, they were his friends, and he couldn’t stay mad at them.

Leo sighed, but then jumped as he looked up to find the subject of his thoughts standing before him, bathed in the red haze of the engine room. Percy stood just inside the door, pale and sweaty but looking better than before, a hand on his head. He smiled sheepishly, or nervously - Leo couldn’t tell. After a static silence, the older demigod broke the air.

“I wanted to apologise,” Percy started, “And explain. Back in Tartarus, uh, you had to learn to have fast reactions. Ninja zen and all that”

Leo half-laughed, thinking for the first time that he and Percy weren’t too different. From what he’d heard, they were both jokers, who weren’t taken seriously at first and used humour as a defence mechanism. Yep, he could relate to that. They’d both suffered a lot for a short time too, he knew that much. _Percy is a good guy_ , the voices chanted, and he believed them.

“I get it, we’re cool,” Leo answered, but even to him that sounded pathetic.

“No it’s not,” Percy said, walking further into the engine room and beginning to pace about, “I’m supposed to be helping the crew, not attacking them! We all know I’ve been useless since I got back, and now _this?_ It’s not okay and it’s not good enough. Even sorry doesn’t cut it.”

“I forgive you, it really is okay,” Leo said loudly, breaking Percy’s pacing. He meant it – if Percy could forgive him firing on new Rome, even by accident, he could surely cut the guy a little slack.

“I don’t deserve that.”

“Who says you get to decide?” Leo asked, laughing now, “As the pathetic attacked victim, surely I’m the one who gets to decide if _I_ forgive you? I do. Okay?” Even Percy laughed a little. “We’re cool, Jackson. I got your back.”

Percy nodded, more a teenager than Leo had ever seen him. He smiled with the sides of his mouth then gestured to the engines, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Percy didn’t say thank you. He didn’t have to.

“Hey, Jackson!” Leo called as Percy was almost out the door. The older boy stopped, turning to face him again. Leo nervously played with the wrench, deciding what to say. “So I guess you owe me, huh?”

_Great. Nice one, Valdez. You great big -_

“Um, I suppose so?” Percy responded confusedly.

“So if I wanted to call in that favour like . . . now?”

“Spit it out, Leo.”

Leo didn’t answer straight away, only took a few deep breaths and tried to steady his nerves. “While you were gone, we uh, we were attacked. In the fight, I got . . . flung away. Woke up on an island.”

He watched Percy’s face carefully, and at these words his face dawned in realization, eyebrows jumping up before his face hardened. Leo continued before he had chance to speak.

“There was a girl there, I believe you know her: angry flower-power chic by the name of Calypso?” Leo laughed bitterly, “one hell of a girl, that. Well I was there for a while, and uh-”

“The raft came?” Percy asked. He did not sound jealous or hateful, but there was a nostalgic tone to his voice.

“Yeah,” Leo said, “Listen, I know you guys had a thing before, and I plan on going back for her – I just want to know what you’re not gonna get all ‘psycho-ex’ on me.”

They both laughed at the absurdity of the words, Leo casually checking Percy’s face. No, he wasn’t the type to get angry over this. “No, we’re okay,” Percy agreed. Then, quietly “I tried to get her out of there.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve tried harder.”

“Nah,” Leo waved him off, “it’s not your fault those d-bags on Olympus never kept their word.” _But I’m keeping mine._

“But still, if you’re uh, really serious about going back for her, you should know that she’s not all sunshine,” Percy added, a darker tone to his voice which Leo didn’t like, head snapping up. “She cursed Annabeth.”

“She _what_?” Leo shouted, full of shock and a protective feeling over Annabeth he didn’t even realize was there before. Somehow, she was like a big sister to all of them – she sure as hell looked after them like one.

Percy nodded, and Leo believed he was being honest. “There are these creatures, the _arai_ , we ran into them down there. They’re the spirits of curses and uh, most of them went for me – I haven’t exactly made a lot of friends – but a few went for her. One of them was from Calypso, and it made Annabeth alone,” he paused, adding guiltily, “like she is.”

Leo Valdez felt his mouth hang open, jaw slack. He thought he knew Calypso, but obviously not. That was cruelty he couldn’t imagine.

“I don’t blame her,” Percy went on hastily, “She’s spent all that time alone – it wasn’t fair on her. I’m not saying I’m her number one fan right now, but I understand _why_ she did it. I’m just saying you should watch your back.”

“Thanks, I guess. But I think I’m still going back for her – I can understand that bitterness better than most, and I promised. She shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.”

To his surprise Percy smiled warmly at him. There was a pride in his eyes. “Good man, Leo.”

He left without a fuss and Leo was left alone with his thoughts again. He was still going back for her – that much he was sure of. But could he trust her? He knew she was a tough _chica_ , but cursing Annabeth? That was over the line.

Leo Valdez understood that bitterness, that want to hurt those who ruined your life. It was the part of him that wanted to set Gaia alight like she killed his mother, and spit in the face of every giant who stood in his way. He could do it; he thought sometimes, just on his rage, he could tear down the world. But trust was important to him - he needed to talk to Calypso about this curse.

He ended that night aching, with more questions than he started it with, but at least that was one weight of his chest – Percy knew, and was cool with it. That was enough to help Leo sleep easier that night.

 

* * *

 

_Hazel_

Despite his bad days, Percy still had good ones. After all – he was still Percy; still the crazy demigod who’d outlasted one prophecy, snarked the gods and led the battle for New York.

Hazel was considering this, and all the stories she’d heard about him in the short time she’d known him. She hadn’t had much chance to catch up with Percy, whom she had missed like a brother, until most of the bad air had blown over and they were well into their journey. It was just before lunch, and she and Percy were on watch on the top deck. The others were somewhere below their feet, watching a movie or else just passed out from exhaustion. They didn’t go more than 5 feet without some form of attack these days.

She held the wheel, the strange ‘wii’ controllers Leo had installed, while Percy stood at the head of the ship, concentrating hard to will them along. His brow was creased in concentration; he had been up here more often since attacking Leo a few days previously, as if trying to amend for his mistake. It wasn’t necessary – they got it. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Still, she wished he’d take a break. She worried about everyone aboard the Argo II like family, especially Percy, who she admired perhaps the most. Yes, she loved Frank and yes, Leo was one of her best friends now, but she’d never forget the kindness Percy had shown her on that first quest.

“How are you doing?” Abandoning the remotes, which for all she knew she was working backwards anyway, Hazel made her way towards the front of the ship. Standing beside her friend, who looked up in welcome surprise at her arrival, the younger girl gazed up expectantly with a smile which held no misgivings. The others, sometimes it was like they didn’t know how to act around him anymore, so they avoided him, but never in a million years could she even consider being afraid of Percy.

With the life he’d had, a person could become so many things, things of such darkness, or misery, or hatred – but that wasn’t Percy. Even after it all, he had bad days, as all folk do, but what happened to him made him _love_. It made him fight harder to protect people and sacrifice more to keep them safe. He fell into _Tartarus_ in the first place just so Annabeth wouldn’t have to go alone. No, it didn’t matter if he was hurting, he wasn’t broken yet. Chipped maybe, but not broken.

Despite it all, Percy was all Hazel could ever hope to be like.

“I’m . . . good, I guess,” he smiled down at her, and she believed it. Maybe today was the day things started to get better. “What about you?”

“Couldn’t be happier,” Hazel beamed.

“Really? Why? Things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing around here recently.”

Hazel snorted dryly, “When’s it ever?”

“Fair point.”

“Point is, we’re all back together,” she linked her arm through his, “So it can’t be that bad, can it?”

“I wish I had your optimism, Hazel Levesque,” Percy’s voice was aloof again, masking what he really meant and causing her to roll her eyes. But he didn’t object to the contact, which she felt a secret victory at.

“That’s a load of crap, and you know it,” As he started to protest, she held up a silencing finger, “Percy. I get it, really, I do. Better than most, I know what it’s like to spend that long out of synch with the world, and how horrible it is down there.”

That really did make him shut up, and play with his hands. She had been dead long enough to know the effects it had on people, and Hazel knew that Percy would either bounce back or fall. Of course, she prayed to every god she knew for the first option, but she knew it all counted on the timing. He would either get back up again, or he would start to drift, until he was no better than a lost soul on the fields of the underworld. She wanted to pull him back.

“Sorry, Hazel, I never thought.”

“I know, you’ve had a lot on your mind. But don’t forget that however much it feels like it,” she squeezed his arm reassuringly, “You’re not alone. And it’s not just me, either. The whole crew cares about you – just let us in.”

“Guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do?” Percy asked cautiously, aiming for a smile.

“I missed you, too,” Hazel moved her arm now to hug him, which he gratefully responded too, dwarfing the much smaller girl by comparison. It felt almost normal. He was the big brother she’d never expected, she the little sister he never knew he’d been missing.

 

* * *

 

_Annabeth_

The last of the three incidents to define Percy’s changes since Tartarus happened two weeks in. A while had passed since anything had gone wrong, and since a talk with Hazel she’d been told about, Percy had been getting better. He laughed more often, spent less time alone; there were times he even looked like the same old Percy again. He’d only had another two panic attacks, and was getting stronger by the day. At this rate, they’d have reached their destination a week in advance, buoyed by their soaring spirits.

Unfortunately, a demigods luck had a short lived run, for that day, things came crashing down in the worst of ways.

The weather had been getting warmer, beating down on their backs like Hephaestus’ hammers as the ship made its progress along the coastline. To their left, land was always in sight, but nothing had obscured their path all week, until a dot blotted out the horizon that day. As they got closer, the crew assembled to see what was occurring, until a small island came into view. It seemed like no threat – something to navigate around and nothing more, so people quickly lost interest. Apart from Leo, who busied himself setting them a new course which would briefly take the mainland out of their sight as they passed the Island.

It looked like a barren rock – deserted, a sandy crag waiting to be claimed by the sea. It was tall and wide enough to hide the entire ship, but not big enough to be inhabited.

“What is that island?” she asked Leo, coming up on his side as he poked at the ‘navigation centre’.

“Don’t know,” he mumbled, stopping to wipe his brow and leaving a line of black grease where his fingers had been. Annabeth almost laughed, but bit the side of her cheek to hold it in. “It isn’t on any maps – probably doesn’t even count as an Island.”

Thinking about that, Annabeth mused aloud, “Maybe it’s one of those Islands created by volcanoes – natural disasters cause hotspots to shift with the seabed and -” She stopped, seeing Leo’s eyes glaze over as she went off on a rant. Percy had the exact same look whenever she did it. She grinned, "I'm sorry. Not helpful." 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s um . . . interesting,” Leo looked like he wanted to say more, but shook himself and disappeared before she had time to question it. He seemed to zoom about the ship like a hurricane, constantly fixing or upgrading something or inventing something new. They would have fallen out of the sky by now if it weren’t for his skill fixing it up after their close calls – he loved that ship. If anything ever happened to it, she wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Looking across the ship, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the sight that met her; simply, her family.

Percy and Hazel were playing cards cross-legged on the floor, while Frank and Jason were training to sword fight with pots and pans in the middle of the deck, being equally cheered for by Piper, who kept bursting into laughter every few seconds at their antics. At that moment, Leo re-emerged from below decks with a funny shaped gadget, narrowly missing being hit in the face as Jason disarmed Frank and sent his pot flying through the air. Leo ducked on instinct, pot clanging against the door above his head, and got to his feet yelling Spanish curses at the pair, who were laughing by now, soon joined by the rest of the crew. Hair singed with embarrassment, the mechanic grumbled his way other to the wheel and continues hooking up his new gadget.

It was nothing like she’d expected, yet everything she could ask for. It was simple, honest fun. For a group of demigods with such a weight hanging over them, the fact that they laughed at all was astounding, and it warmed Annabeth’s heart to see it wasn’t all doom and gloom.

“What is it?” Leo appeared by her side this time, questioning the smile large enough to land a plane on which was steadily spreading across her face.

“Nothing,” she beamed, “Just glad to be back.”

The curly-haired kid grinned impishly at her then, reminding her of the step brothers back home she barely knew, but he was more her family than they ever were. They all were.

And that was just alright.

 

* * *

 

_Hazel_

They passed the Island at just gone noon, the sun still high and fierce, but the crew had stubbornly remained playing about on deck, determined to make the most of the peace, however temporary it may be. Their card game long abandoned, she and Percy were now taking it in turns to see how far up the mast they could free climb. Hand shielding the sun from her eyes, she watched a dark haired head bob up to the rigging before falling with a thump to the deck. Percy was sprawled out, but laughing as if he hadn’t just fallen fifteen feet.

“Pathetic, Jackson,” she teased, as he pushed his hair from his eyes, grinning.

“Yeah? Let’s see you do better.”

“Just you watch me,” Hazel faced the pole, slight frown cursing her features. It was as tall as the ship, and she could barely fit her arms the whole way round it. Still, now was not the time to lose face. Standing in front of the pole, she scrutinised it carefully, knowing she wouldn’t scale it on strength alone. When it clicked, she smiled. Hazel unlooped her belt from her jeans, hitching it around the pole. With a jumpstart, she started shimmying up the pole, using the belt to hoist herself up. It was genius. She’d got as far as Percy had and then some when she heard the shout.

“Hey, no fair!” Percy hollered up at her, pouting like a child.

“Is too!” she argued back from her vantage point, arms starting to shake, “I just used my initiative!”

Percy grumbled from somewhere below, and in minutes Hazel had reached the top of the mast, specifically the dark knot in the wood they’d chosen as the finish line. Grinning, she slowly loosened the grip of the belt, sliding back down the pole with grace. Frank, who had been watching with Annabeth, Piper and Jason, stood to applaud when she touched down.

“You gotta admit, she beat you there,” he said to Percy.

“Yeah,” he conceded hands up, followed by a typical Percy grin “But I’d still beat her in a fight.”

Hazel cocked an eyebrow, “Huh?”

Then she turned faster than he could anticipate, sweeping her legs across the ground and taking him off his feet. Percy ended up on his back on the deck, winded and blinking confusedly.

“Ouch.”

Annabeth laughed the hardest of them all.

* * *

 

_Frank_

The trouble started not long after that, when the Island was finally close enough to make out properly.

“Who are they?” Leo asked, breaking their laughter as he pointed towards the Island. Frank got to his feet with the rest of them and made their way towards the rails before leaning as far over the ledge as he could to get a better peek. Old ladies. That’s what they looked like: old ladies dressed in black – but they seemed fluid, like they were made of smoke.

Just as his brow started to crease in confusion, Annabeth did something very . . . un- Annabeth. She screamed. Backing away from the deck, a long, piercing scream escaped her mouth before she clapped a hand over it, looking horrified with herself.

“Oh Gods,” Percy breathed beside her, he too backing away and stumbling over his own feet. Turning, he met his girlfriend’s eye and nodded, “They’re not getting you again. I swear.”

Then he raced towards the stern of the ship, standing right up on the ledge and throwing out his hands. Intense concentration paining his face, smiling only minutes ago, he turned a sickly pale as he tried to control the waters around the boat. Nothing happened.

“What’s going on?” asked Jason, turning from Percy to Annabeth in confusion, one hand ready on his sword.

“We – need – to – turn – this – boat – around!” Percy roared, voice sounding suddenly hoarse from the effort he was putting into it. His muscles were tense, eyes going bloodshot, but still the boat did not budge. “Why isn’t it working?!”

He eventually screamed, jumping back down from the ledge.

“We have to get below deck,” snapping out it, Annabeth rushed to the doors leading to below decks, but shoving against them with all the strength, they did not move. “No! No, no . . . please, open.”

“Let me try,” Jason went over to help her, attempting to kick in the doors with a giant boot. _Thud_. Nothing. _Thud_. Nothing. _Thud_. Nothing.

“I can’t go blind again,” Annabeth breathed in a way no one was supposed to hear, but her voice trembled with fear and carried over to them. As she looked desperately to Percy, who looked as terrified as her, he locked his jaw. He would fight.

“What are they?” Frank found her voice asked the question they were all wondering, and five heads snapped in Percy’s direction, looking for answers.

“Arai,” he answered, but it was barely a whisper. Whatever these things were, they sure scared the two bravest people Frank knew to death.

“The curse things?” Leo asked, paling a little too, and Frank wondered how he knew that. He sure didn’t have a clue what was going on, but Percy nodded grimly. The boat was still edging its way towards the Island, as the creatures got closer. As he watched, a change came over Percy and he straightened his back a little, standing taller. He supposed this is what the other demigod had been like in Tartarus.

“Listen up. These things are the curses of every ugly mother we’ve ever killed,” Percy said, pacing in front of the door and meeting all of their eyes. “A dying breath – that’s all it takes. These things kill us if we kill them, and attack us anyways if we don’t.” He paused, shuddering, but still held the air of a general about him as he spoke. “Now I don’t know how many monsters you’ve all killed, but I guarantee at least one of ‘em will have cursed you. So here’s what we’re going to do: the ones that come for you will be _your_ curses. You do not under any circumstances fight back at them. Let someone else do it – your curse shouldn’t affect them; we all watch each other’s backs and I think they’ll go away once we pass the island.”

“Percy,” Annabeth spoke up, bringing all their attention to her drawn out face, “You’re avoiding the point. However many curses we have on us – you have ten times more. Think of all the things from the first war. They’re coming for you”

A silence stretched out between them all, as the two Tartarus survivors stood locked in a staring contest. Frank had heard stories from the war last year, sure, but it was the first time he really considered just how much his friends had already endured.

“Then we’ll just have to stop them,” the words found him easily, confident that he would not see them in ruin again. He knew the weight of a curse. Eyes on fire, Frank looked at Percy, who grinned in gratitude in gratitude.

“Okay then, let’s stab us some evil puffs of smoke.”

 

* * *

 

_Annabeth_

Somehow, she and Percy had ended up back to back against the arai again, but fighting under a sky that was their own this time. As the shadow of the Island swallowed their ship, the creatures descended upon them like a swarm. They were everywhere.

“Behind you!” she screamed at Jason, who moved quickly to cut an arai in half who was rounding on Leo. The creature dissolved in ashes, but another one appeared in its place. It was ridiculous – as soon as they managed to get rid of one arai, another would materialise. Relentlessly attacking them; they couldn’t hold out much longer.

Percy swung riptide over her head, missing it by an inch to carve up one of the arai and she didn’t even flinch, only dropped and rolled a second later to try and stop one flying at Piper.

_Ma Gasket sends her regards!_ It screeched at the younger girl, who ducked so Annabeth could dispel the beast with her skull-sword. Man, she was starting to love that thing.

“Thanks,” Piper said breathlessly.

“Don’t mention it.”

That’s when the demon birds started playing dirty. Sensing things were not going their way, the arai retreated, flying above their heads, and started being smart about it. Which didn’t exactly work in their favour.

_The boy,_ they chanted, _we met him before_ _in an early grave. The most cursed of all demigods._

They chanted directly at Percy, who stopped to face them, grip on riptide tightening. He had a cut above his eyebrow, but had been fine until their chant. Now he looked ridged, shaking and unable to look away. Annabeth started desperately for him, yelling “Don’t listen to them! It’s not true!”

_The most cursed: more than Hercules, most famous of all heroes. But this one’s been repeating his glory days, and then some._ The arai chanted, and then began swirling above their heads, a whirlwind of black smoke. _How much suffering have you caused, to rack up such a tally? So much pain._

“So much pain,” Percy echoed dumbly, his face becoming slack.

_Yessss,_ the creepy chorus cooed, _don’t you deserve to get some back? The curses clean you of all these sins._

“I deserve it?” Percy asked again.

“No!” Annabeth cut through, but the arai were swirling so tightly around Percy now that she couldn’t past to reach him. “Percy – they were monsters! You save people, remember it!”

_How many have you killed?_

“I – I don’t remember.”

_A lot?_

“A lot.”

_And how many have you let down?_

Percy’s face fell, and even through the mist, Annabeth’s heart broke for him. She made to run through the arai, damn the consequences, but Jason seized her from behind, holding her there. “No,” Jason whispered lowly, “He wouldn’t want you hurt too.”

“Let me go!” she screamed, trying to shove him away, but Jason held tight, eyes on his friend and full of pain. Her gaze followed his, tear filled. Percy was on his knees now, as the darkness swirled around him, becoming thicker with every passing second. It reminded her of when he held the sky.

_There are a pretty few curses to chose from, boy. We’ll let you decide – chose one and we’ll let your friends leave._

At this, Percy’s head snapped up. His eyes found hers, and even though she mouthed ‘no’, Annabeth knew it was pointless. His own badly aimed sense of heroism would mean he’d never refuse that deal. The last remaining shred of hope drained from his eyes as he lifted his head a fraction, blackness of the arai reflected in his eyes for just a moment.

_Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon. You have caused more suffering in your short life than any other demigod in history._ He flinched. _You are the most cursed of all mortals, even the titans of old have ones stored for you. We come on Gaia’s orders, from the pit of Tartarus itself to bestow this judgement._ Percy leant on his sword, ready to use it. _Choose your fate._

In a sudden spur of movement, Percy swung riptide in an arc, straight upwards through the leading arai. It cut through the shadow like a tidal wave, just as the ship passed the Island, emerging into open waters and sun once more. As the arai ceased to exist, sun glinted off riptide, Percy’s eyes squeezed shut. A tense moment passed of electrified silence, before Annabeth, breaking free of Jason’s grasp, raced at full pelt towards her fallen soul mate.

“Percy,” she dropped onto her knees in front of him, taking his face into her hands and rubbing her thumb across his jaw line soothingly, through the tears racing one another down her face. When he opened his eyes, the green was shattered with pain. He looked down, as did she, and she gasped at the red starting to stain his blue hoodie. Blood. Lots of it.

“Let me see.” Gently, she lifted the blue material to see the source of the bleeding. There was a cut, a few inches deep and resembling a dagger wound, leaking from his abdomen. It didn’t look good, the dark blood oozing all over the deck; skin around it turning grey. She’d seen a wound like this before, just over a year ago, on the day when she’d lost someone else close to her heart. Apparently, Percy made the connection too.

“Luke,” he breathed, not even bothering to try and hold in his guts. He looked defeated.

“No,” Annabeth said sternly, using her hands to brush his hair from his face so he had to look at her, pressing the other over the injury, “Not Luke. Never. Kronos – he did this.”

“Not Luke,” Percy echoed, becoming sicklier by the second, “Kronos.”

“Oh, Percy,” she said, more a sob than words, and pressed her forehead to his.

“No!” He suddenly shouted, getting to his feet and sending her flying backwards. Annabeth landed on her elbow, gasped in pain, and started up to find Percy full of rage. “I’m done! I’m done with the Gods, and Gaia and every freaking thing in between – I can’t take it anymore.” His voice was more of a sob now, desperation and anger and fear of the past week weeks all being released at once. He spat, “They were right, I’m nothing but a trail of pain and blood.”

“No, you’re not,” she tried softly, getting up and attempting to approach him again. The wild darkness in his eyes scared her almost as much as he had facing misery in Tartarus, but he was still Percy.

“Yes! I deserve to be cursed – just look at all the people dead for me! Charlie – Silena – Michael – Bob – Damasen: how many more will it take before this is all over? _They’re dead_ – I should be too.” His voice dropped, as everything about him fell. Voice cracking, he clenched his fists. “I’m useless now, I haven’t been the same since and you all know it. _I can’t._ ”

Annabeth walked forward, putting a hand on his arm. He tried to shrug her off, but she held on. “Let go,” he murmured in a low voice.

“Never.”

“I said let go, I don’t deserve it!” He roared again, flinging his arm back.

The force sent Annabeth stumbling back, caught from falling only by Frank, who held her up without a word. When she regained her balance, she looked at Percy in shock at what he’d done, which was mirrored in his own face.

“No,” he muttered, looking at his hands then back at her, face a picture of concern. “Annabeth I’m so – I’m sorry. I-” he broke off, and had jumped over the side of the ship before they had chance to say a word. A wave rose to meet him, carrying him like a rocket to the shore in the distance. Although they all yelled after him, he did not look back.

* * *

 

_Percy_

He’d hurt Annabeth. That’s all Percy could think as he sped off towards the shore, still bleeding and broken. It didn’t matter; he didn’t feel a thing – he’d pushed Annabeth, and he’d hurt her.

He had been useless for weeks and he knew it, between the panic attacks and inability to focus, but this was a new low. Hurting Leo had been a bad point, but _Annabeth_? He couldn’t think of anything worse.

Percy loved her; yet at that moment he’d been filled with such a fury, possessing his every thought, he had managed to hurt the one he cared for the most. Percy was scared. Scared that in the pit, something had messed him up so much that he’d never be the same again; the anger he’d felt since Bob’s death would never leave. There was guilt too, oh the guilt and how it weighted his bones, making every day longer, every step harder. When he’d killed monsters before, he’d never felt guilty about it. It had always been him versus them: kill or be killed, so he’d never had to give it a second thought. But now he was constantly plagued with the idea of whether his actions were right.

_What if they’re like Bob?_ The voices would say as he defended the ship, and a moment’s hesitation was all it would take to get them all dead.

He couldn’t live like that for much longer.

When the shore was at his feet, he stepped off the wave and started walking, not caring if he looked like some sort of freak descending from the sea, nor that he was covered in blood, dirty and tired. Things had gone wrong, so he did what he always did when everything fell apart. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, and he panicked for a second before he found a little spare change in the depths of his pocket.

Percy Jackson collapsed against the payphone, holding the receiver in the crook of his neck as he fed the machine the money, while dialling a number he could never forget.

“Hello, this is Sally Jackson speaking.” When she answered, Percy felt his voice hitch in his throat, and couldn’t speak for a moment. “Is anyone there?”

“Mom.”

A silence. “Percy? Where have you been? First you go missing; then I get a voicemail – then nothing for months. Are you alright?” The questions, full of the concern only a mother had, came at him at a hundred miles an hour and he felt his lips subconsciously twist into a smile. It had been a long year – he’d missed his mom so much.

“Tartarus,” he eventually managed to croak out, “Me and Annabeth. We got out a few weeks ago”

“Oh, Percy,” the words rung in his ears, an echo of Annabeth’s pleas earlier, and he remembered why he was there.

“Mom, I messed up,” he sobbed tiredly, before launching into an explanation of everything that had happened. True to form, Sally Jackson was as flawless as ever in dealing with her son, saying all the things that needed saying at the right times, her voice generally taking the edge off the last few month’s pain. Gods, he’d forgotten how great his mom was at this stuff.

When he was done, he could hear his mom’s tears, but there was a laugh to her voice as she spoke. “Percy, you were always too hard on yourself. You’ve been through a hell of a lot more than most people your age, and from what you’ve told me, no one’s going to understand that better than the kids on that boat.”

“But I hurt Annabeth, mom.”

“She can take care of herself, that girl,” Sally Jackson told him. “She loves you. You fell into the monster pit for her; I think she’ll forgive you.”

Even he laughed at that.

Sally continued, “Percy, you’re my hero. Now I know you can’t come home yet, but _when_ you do, you bring those friends of yours round for dinner.”

“Promise.”

“I’ll make blue desserts, my treat. But here’s what you’re going to do now . . .”

* * *

 

When Percy was off the phone to his mother, he felt unexplainably better. Some of the weight that had settled around his heart was lifted by her words; he knew there was only one thing he could do back then – one person to turn to. His mom, who had been looking out for him longer than anyone; who always had the right answers, had saved him yet again. He couldn’t wait to get back home.

When he approached the Argo II, the crew were pacing on the deck, having docked there to look for Percy a while ago. He’d been on the phone for quite some time. At the sound of his feet ascending the plank, they all rushed over, pausing uncertainly in front of him, waiting for him to speak. Having never been the best with words, he hoped his mom was right about this.

“These are for you,” he held out the brightly coloured bouquet of flowers to Annabeth in one hand with a nervous smile, “I’m sorry.”

When she looked at him, he saw that she’d never been mad in the first place, as she raced straight at him and lopped her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear, squeezing the hug tighter. There was really nothing else to say: they still had each other, they were still here. Things were okay between them.

When she’d released him, clutching the feeble posy, Percy held out the item in his other hand to the crew as a peace offering. “You guys deserve an apology too – I’m sorry.”

“Aw man, you know the way straight to a guys heart,” Leo broke the silence with that unfortunate comment, snatching the pizza box from Percy’s hand with a wide grin. They all laughed at that, then the inevitable fight over the pizza began, and Percy smiled.

“Where did you go?” Annabeth said for only him to hear.

“I called my mom,” he answered, still watching the others, “Annabeth?”

“Hmmnn?”

“She said you all have to come to dinner when we get back.”

If she caught the importance of the word ‘when’, Annabeth did not show it. Instead, she simply kissed him on the cheek and remarked, “Only if you’re not cooking.”

Then she went to join the squabble for pizza playing out in front of them. Percy smiled as he watched her go, all golden and perfect. He’d been through hell but he was still standing. The wound on his side had healed with ambrosia, but a scar remained, and he figured the curse would be too kind if it ever faded entirely.

Instead of letting that break him anymore, he decided that it would be a mark of what he’d survived; a reason to keep fighting. But he had six of those already, and they were standing in front of him, fighting over a crappy pizza he’d bought.

“Promise,” he whispered in answer, even though Annabeth was gone, but he was promising so much more than that.


End file.
